


Cookie

by spelledink



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Food Kink, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 09:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spelledink/pseuds/spelledink
Summary: Miranda comes home from work. Andy wants to play.Contains ridiculous uses of chocolate.Silly, fluffy, and chocolatey.





	1. Fresh out of the oven

**Author's Note:**

> Andy has a different definition of "chocoholic."

_**Cookie** _

**A Devil Wears Prada fanfiction**

**This story is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.**

_** The Devil Wears Prada ** _ __ **is the property of Lauren Weisberger and 20 th Century Fox.**

 

Miranda Priestly climbed the steps of her East 73rd Street townhouse, her footsteps light. A small smile grew on her face as she unlocked the door. It had been a long day at _Runway_ , but now she was home.

Home.

_Where Andrea waited._

Andrea.

Once her second assistant, the faithful bearer of burdens and coffee. Now so much more.

Her friend.

Her very best friend.

Her lover.

The woman who held her heart.

Captivating the editor, her twins, and one traitorous Saint Bernard.

_Could it have only been two months since New York fashion week? Since they’d finally crashed together, after so long apart. Making love in Andy’s little apartment on Gold Street?_

_I’m so damn lucky, after all this time. Not that I’d ever admit it, except to her._

As Miranda opened the door, music greeted her, coming from the kitchen.

The sweet aroma of chocolate and vanilla filled the air.

The slinky rhythm of guitars and keyboards flowed from the kitchen, No Doubt’s “Hella Good” playing over the radio.

Miranda pursed her lips, holding back a grin.

_I wonder what she’s up to now._

She turned the corner, peeking into the kitchen.

What a sight.

Dancing to the music… Andrea.

Brown hair flying about her face, like a dark halo.

Her eyes closed as she moved, her lips parted. Hips swaying sensuously to the beat.

Clad in a pair of tight, distressed True Religion cut-off shorts. Showing off her long legs. Flattering the curves that moved and mesmerized.

A black Helmut Lang tee covered the full breasts that strained against it. Her nipples taut, enticing. The shirt shifted up as she danced, revealing mouthwatering abs.

A wave of heat roared through Miranda. Her senses alight with desire as she watched the brunette. Her fingers aching to touch, her mouth to taste.

_Every time I see her, it’s like this, it always the same. I can’t help but want her._

_And I wouldn’t want it any other way._

Miranda continued to watch the writer dance, an unguarded smile blooming across her face. Her eyes soft with unalloyed joy.

_How did I ever call myself happy before her? She’s made every day… better, brighter._

_Like a gray world coming to life, suddenly ablaze with Technicolor. Like Dorothy riding the storm to Oz. Waking in a new world filled with wonder and beauty._

A tender warmth filled Miranda’s breast.

_She’s opened my eyes to so many things. Things I never saw before. Never recognized as important. Merely by being her. By being beside me._

The music began to slow, as did Andy’s dance. Chocolate eyes opened, meeting Miranda’s. A soft blush covered Andy’s face.

“Miranda,” she said. “You’re home.”

“Yes,” Miranda answered, stepping towards the other woman.

Andy crossed the kitchen floor.

Arms eagerly reaching, grasping. Sweeping Miranda into her arms. Her wild hair tickling against the editor’s cheeks as their lips collided.

Andy nipped Miranda’s lower lip, her tongue lightly swiping. 

Seeking entrance. Desperate to ravish the older woman’s mouth.

“Missed you so much,” Andy whispered. “I wanted to be home. Wanted to be here.”

“Wanted you.”

Miranda reached up, tangling her fingers in the younger woman’s hair.

Andy swiveled, pinning Miranda against the kitchen island.

Miranda gasped, surrendering to her strong arms. Her mouth open, craving Andrea’s tongue. Kissing her.

_Yes, oh God, yes. This is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve needed all day._

Miranda’s arms tightened around the brunette, tugging her close. Not wanting an inch of space between them.

Falling into the touch, the scent, the taste that was all Andrea.

Irritated at the impediment of clothing. Wishing only to feel her skin against her lover’s.

Miranda opened her eyes, still kissing Andy. Skin flushing as brown eyes met hers. Irises wide, dark with lust. A frisson of need tore through Miranda. Her knees suddenly weak, a wet ache between her legs.

_God, how she makes me feel. Every time, every single time. She makes me feel like this. Like she wants to take me, devour me, make me part of her._

_And I want her to. I want it so much._

A moan passed Miranda’s lips. “Andrea...” she said.

“Baby…” husked the brunette.

“Please…” replied Miranda, her lips latching onto Andy’s throat.

A soft chuckle answered her.

Hands fell to Miranda’s waist. Lifting her to the kitchen island. Removing her dove-gray Manolo Blahnik pumps, letting them fall to the floor.

Reaching up, skimming Miranda’s black thigh-high stockings. Playing with the delicate band on top. Pushing up her red lace Valentino pencil skirt, fingertips teasing exposed flesh. Andy unclasped the skirt, easing it down Miranda’s legs.

Andy’s eyes met Miranda’s, her gaze hungry. Her fingers plucked open the buttons of Miranda’s white Carolina Herrera blouse. She tore it from Miranda’s shoulders, tossing the garment aside. Andy grinned, reveling in the exposed goddess before her.

_Miranda._

Clad in a sheer white La Perla bra and matching thong. Sitting on the kitchen island. Her legs askew. Her snowy locks tousled. The rosy blush of arousal on her face. Lips parted, her breath ragged.

_Aching to be fucked._

Andy smirked.

_It’s time to play._

Andy stepped away from Miranda. Circling around the island.

Pausing before the oven.

Donning an oven mitt, she turned it off. Retrieving a tray.

Chocolate chip cookies.

Miranda stared, dumbfounded.

“I was making these for later. For you and the girls,” Andy said. “This is the last batch.”

She quickly transferred the cookies to a cooling rack on the island.

“I just need to put the chocolate ganache on top,” she said, winking at Miranda.

Andy took a squeeze bottle from a ceramic bowl. Dark chocolate inside it.

“It’s still warm,” she said.

Andy liberally striped the cookies with the ganache, allowing them to cool.

Andy snatched a still-warm cookie from the rack.

She took a bite. A sinful smile appeared on her face.

“So good,” she said.

She crossed to Miranda. “Try it,” she said.

Miranda looked at the half-eaten cookie held in Andy’s outstretched fingers.

She nodded. Taking the morsel in her mouth.

Her lips grazing Andy’s fingertips as she did.

Andy’s smile widened.

“So?” she said. “Do you like my cookie?”

Miranda flushed, her eyes locked on Andrea’s lips.

Andy advanced, her eyes predatory.

“It’s all in the ganache. Dark chocolate with a touch of brandy folded in,” she said, idly holding the squeeze bottle.

“Oh,” replied Miranda.

Andy sauntered closer.

“I wonder what else it would taste good on,” Andy purred, a wicked smile on her face.

She raised the bottle, releasing a stream of chocolate into her mouth.

“Mm,” Andy said. “I think I know what would be perfect.”

A shudder went through Miranda as Andy’s moan penetrated her.

“What?” she asked, her voice faltering.

Andy stepped between Miranda’s legs, her eyes luminous.

“You,” she whispered.

Andy’s hands raised to Miranda’s face, gently cradling it.

She angled her lips, then drew Miranda close, kissing her.

Miranda moaned, tasting her lover. Andy’s tongue coated with the bitter tang of dark chocolate.

“Yes,” breathed Andy. “That’s it. That’s what I want. To taste you, every bit of you.”

Andy set the bottle down on the island. Her hands glided over Miranda’s breasts, releasing the lacy bralette. It fluttered to the floor.

“May I?” Andy asked.

Miranda locked eyes with Andy.

“Yes,” she answered. “I want you to.”

Andy picked up the bottle. Painting ivory skin with ganache.

It tingled, warm, against Miranda’s skin. On her throat. Between her breasts.

Everywhere Andy painted, her mouth eagerly followed. Leaving a trail of fire across her lover’s flesh.

Her tongue spiraled over the editor’s nipples, her lips sucking them into stiff peaks.

Miranda arched into each touch, gasping as Andy moved lower.

The trail of sugary warmth moved south, Andy’s tongue following. Licking, sweeping, adoring.

The brunette’s lips fluttered at the edge of Miranda’s thong. She slipped the airy silk from Miranda’s hips. Her mouth fell lower, meeting silken curls.

Andy looked up at Miranda. “Want you, so much,” she whispered. She gently parted Miranda’s legs, glorying at the sight of her glistening sex.

Andy angled the squeeze bottle. She gently dripped the contents over Miranda’s mons. It trickled down her labia, glazing her slit. 

“Have to taste you,” Andy husked. Her tongue descended, trailing the stream of chocolate, laving the tender flesh it coated. Miranda’s arousal and cocoa blending in her mouth.

Andy licked upwards, her tongue flat. Dragging from perineum to clitoris, stroking slowly. Miranda’s hips rocked, hands fisted in her lover’s hair, riding her mouth.

Andy’s tongue circled the editor’s clit, then dipped into her core. She continued licking, Miranda’s belly quivering beneath her.

“Feels so good,” Miranda gasped. “Oh, Andrea…”

Andy entered Miranda with two fingers, curling them upwards. Pumping and rubbing rhythmically as her tongue lapped. Miranda ground her sex into Andy’s face, her hands urging the brunette to continue.

“So close,” Miranda breathed. “I’m gonna…” She spasmed, her mouth set in a wide rictus. Legs trembling as she came.

Andy continued, Miranda’s release coating her tongue. Another orgasm rolled through the frost-haired beauty. She cried out, her voice hoarse. “Andy!” she gasped, then lay spent, loose-limbed on the table.

Andy crawled up onto the island, straddling her love’s hips. She leaned down, kissing Miranda. The editor responded, her hands upon the brunette’s thighs. A weary smile on her face.

“I love you, Andrea,” she said. “You make me so happy.”

Andy nuzzled the editor, her eyes bright. “I love you, too, sweetheart,” she said.

Miranda looked down at herself. Stripped bare, her clothes scattered across the kitchen.

Andy chuckled at her, still clad in her shorts and tee. “Feeling a little cold?” she smirked. “No,” answered Miranda. “But aren’t you a little over dressed?”

Andy smiled. “Oh, I’m sure we can rectify that,” she said. “We better,” growled Miranda.

“Of course,” replied Andy.

“It’s a good thing the girls aren’t home yet,” Miranda said. “The kitchen was perhaps a little… indiscreet.”

Andy shrugged. “Maybe, but super hot,” she grinned.

Miranda slapped Andy’s shoulder lightly. “Off,” she said. “We have to clean up this mess.” Andy hopped off the island, smiling.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

Miranda frowned. “What was that?”

“Do you like my cookie?” Andy said, winking.

Miranda blushed. The pair laughed as they bent to retrieve her scattered clothes.


	2. Bed-time snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda returns the favor.

Andy lay in the master suite, leaning against the headboard of the wide king-size bed. Clad in a silver Agent Provocateur slip, over white lace panties. “Bringing up Baby” played quietly on the television in the darkened room. It had been a long day at the office, going over new manuscripts and making changes.

The door opened. Miranda entered, a tray in hand. She paused, locking the door behind her. She crossed over to the bed, placing the tray on her night stand.

A plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

Miranda sat on the bed, facing Andy. A midnight blue La Perla robe covering her.

She smiled, her eyes gratefully taking in Andy’s appearance.

 

Her hair, dark rivulets about her shoulders.

Her eyes, so full of warmth.

Her lips, apt for kissing.

 

“Andrea, I recall you had a question yesterday,” she said.

“Oh?” asked Andy. She looked at Miranda, unsure of what to say.

The editor stared at the younger woman, pinning her to the bed.

“Yes,” answered Miranda. “You did.”

She leaned closer to the brunette, her breath warm on Andy’s skin.

“Do you like my cookie?” she said.

Her voice low, husky.

Hungry.

Andy lowered her eyes.

Miranda leaned towards the tray, taking one in slender fingers.

She took a bite. Savoring the bittersweet of chocolate and vanilla.

Leaning back to brush her crumb-flecked lips against Andy’s.

“They really are quite good,” Miranda said. “But I remember _exploring_ something else. A particular ingredient, shall we say.”

“The ganache,” said Andy, her voice soft.

“You said you wanted to taste it on me, all over me,” Miranda said.

“Yes,” said Andy.

“You wanted to… _play_ that way?” asked Miranda.

Andy nodded, a blush blooming on her face.

“Really Andrea, you simply could have asked,” the editor said. A gentle fondness in her voice. “Not that I’m complaining, darling.”

Miranda’s hands played with the edge of Andrea’s slip. She grasped the lacy bottom, pulling it up and over the brunette’s head. Revealing her toned abs, her full breasts.

She dropped the shimmering garment to the floor.

“Beautiful,” Miranda whispered.

The editor’s hands trailed over Andy’s skin, whispering against her sides.

Fingertips ghosting over her breasts, causing her nipples to pebble and peak.

Miranda’s hands fell down, hooking into the sheer lace panties. Pulling them down over Andrea’s hips, stripping them from her shapely legs.

Miranda stared, captivated by the vision of beauty before her.

Andrea.

Stripped bare, clad in only her dark hair.

Eyes soft, vulnerable. Lips parted. Breath hitching as Miranda’s fingertips stroked.

“Oh, Miranda,” she sighed. “Please…”

“What darling?” asked Miranda, her voice soft.

“I want you,” Andy breathed. “I want you so much.”

Miranda smiled. She leaned in, kissing the younger woman. Lingering on her lips.

She pulled something from the pocket of her robe.

A squeeze bottle of ganache. Warm to the touch.

A tiny whimper exited Andy’s lips.

“Do you want this, Andrea?” asked Miranda.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

Miranda slipped from the dark robe, letting it fall.

Moonlight from the window revealing the pale skin beneath.

She cradled the bottle in one hand, a smile playing on her lips.

“Open,” Miranda said. Her thumb lightly skimming the writer’s lips.

Andy let her in, radiant with joy.

Miranda painted her tongue with syrup, blue eyes dark.

“Don’t swallow,” she commanded.

The brunette waited, bitter chocolate coating her tongue.

Miranda descended, fingers curling in mahogany hair.

Taking. Devouring.

Sucking Andy clean, as she trembled beneath.

Miranda continued, trailing the syrup onto Andy’s breasts, anointing them. Consuming each morsel.

Loving the taste. Cocoa and the salty tang of the brunette’s skin.

Miranda edged lower.

Treating her lover like a Jackson Pollock canvas. Swirling, smearing, daubing, splattering. 

Her mouth grazed Andy’s  belly, lapping at the syrup gathered there. Her tongue a brush. Painting words of love on the sensitive flesh of her waist.

Miranda dripped the dark confection between her lover’s legs. Leaning forward, drinking from the font of her arousal. Her tongue sweeping over the younger woman’s sex.

Slowly. Deeply.

Circling Andy’s clitoris. Sucking it into her mouth, feeling it grow erect. 

Miranda slipped two curved fingers into Andy. Feeling the rough pad of flesh under them as they moved. Fingertips rubbing, circling the spot. Her thumb gliding over Andy’s clit as she massaged.

Hearing Andy’s panted response. “Yes, like that!”

Miranda continued move her fingers as her tongue swiped the brunette’s labia. She closed her lips around Andy’s clit, and the writer let go. Screaming her climax, her body trembling in release.

Miranda held Andy close, kissing her. “I love you,” she whispered. They lay there, as Andy came down from her orgasm.

Andy clung to Miranda, brushing gentle kisses across her lips and throat.

Pressing her body against the older woman.

“I love you, too,” she said.

A warm chuckle rumbled in her chest.

“So, do you have an answer yet?” Andy snickered.

“For what?” asked Miranda.

“Do you like my cookie?” she asked.

Miranda paused, whispering into Andy’s ear.

“Andrea, your cookie’s tasty, and very nice,” she said.

“But… I always love your ganache.”

Her lips quirked in a grin as they met Andy’s.


End file.
